Pointed Hip Bones
by Junk Mans Daughter
Summary: Isabella Swan's hips tell the secrets of her past: the cuts, who's been there, and her new found love. Edward Cullen's always been the outcast, and he doesn't mind that. But once he meets Isabella he realizes that he has to save her, to save himself.
1. Prologue

Yeah, just because something's free doesn't mean you have to like it. I don't like school, and that's free-but I'm not ungrateful, don't get me wrong-you've just got to see what I go through at school.

You see I don't talk at school, talking signifies a friend; or something like that. I don't need attachments, because I'm not stable. I can't tell people my secrets, and expect them to not go tell someone.

Do I need help?

Of coarse, but everyone needs help, so I must be normal. I don't want it though, you can't force someone into something that they don't want…well actually you can, but it's kinda ya know illegal.

The only reason I've been living in Forks, Washington for these three months is for my Mom…and my physical health. Living in Forks means I'm the head chief's daughter, which means I can't screw up. To some that pressure may be their downfall, for me it will only keep my sane. So smoking is out of the picture, so my pretty clear lighter sits in my panty drawer all alone. The only thing it's been good for lately is for protecting my heart, which of coarse is a figure of speech.

The teachers have tried calling on me in class, but they finally gave up after the first few weeks. I would too if the student just stared at you with empty eyes. If I need a pass I just hand it to them, and they sign.

The lunch ladies don't get it though, they still ask me everyday why I only get my pink lemonade.

But will I ever reply?

Nope…

Frowning I notice my teacher-Mr.Williams-isn't around. Glancing in Jessica's-the school gossiper-says aloud, "I heard he quite, and that like our new teacher is fucking hot. Apparently he's like only 20 or something." Her friend Lauren-who's equally just as bad-giggles and they continue talking nonsense.

Do I envy them?

Not really, because I'm not that type of person. It's just too much work to be jealous of someone, and plus I don't like it. It's what drives countries insane, and I'm just average Bella.

Sin can be deadly-but I'm not a preacher-but I'm not saying theirs no God either. But I believe that were all too small to talk to the big cheese, like we don't get his big picture yet…we may never know what or who he is. He's the painter. He chooses everything, I just happened to be one of the people that suffer in the shadows of his masterpiece. Is that fair? I don't know really…

But why should I?

Yeah, the pain that my body holds can be unbarring, but I bet if I sat down and talked to you that you wouldn't understand.

Of coarse my life outside of Forks, Washington looked perfect probably, but it wasn't. Just like any family my house held secrets. Dirty rotten secrets that would make any good living creature cringe in disgust.

I'd probably get the biggest pity party if you knew the lies that I've told to keep my Mother happy.

But she's the child, and I've become the adult.

It's almost as if I run my own life now, but in a way I'm the one shredding it to bits…

Have you ever noticed how when you paint a picture in your art class-or where ever you are-that sometimes the little pieces of the brush fall away?

It's almost like that's someone letting go of the world, and once it's all gone you go buy a new one and the cycle starts all over again.

It's kinda funny-in a sick twisted way-but I don't want to be another paint brush…but I don't think it can be stopped now.

Because you know what?

My pieces are already falling out from under me. And I've started giving up. I'll always be Bella, and the world will always be a paint brush in someone's hands…

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A/N: So the comparison just came of the paint brush and the world came when I was doing my art project (so there's no need to ask where I came up with that now…).

**I want everyone to understand three things:**

**1). Hopefully, Bella is coming off-and will continue to come off-as a deep teenager.**

**2). Bella is a struggling teen that is drowning in her depression (you'll find out why later), but you're going to have to wait until next chapter, or maybe the one after that to see Edward.**

**3). I won't update until I get at least 10 reviews each chapter.**

**So hopefully, I've gotten some fans from this fan fic.**

_This was just the prologue people!_

_Enjoy reading future chapters…_

_Open comments are welcome, and so are suggestions…_

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	2. Breaking Down

**A/N: So I pretty much have the whole idea written up of this fan fic it just depends on the amount of reviews I get for each chapter. All I'm really saying is review, and I'll put my next chapter up (that's pretty much ready). Send in the freakin' reviews and you'll get another crazy chapter! I apologize for any bad grammar, and now please enjoy the love.**

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It was just another rainy afternoon in Forks, Washington. I would love to tell you that the skies crying with me, but it's always like this here.

Sitting down Indian-style in front of my mirror I frown. I've heard from everyone around me that I'm a once-in-a-lifetime beauty, but actually I'm just below average.

I've grown up critizing myself, and I'm not ashamed of that…

It's just hard to accept yourself sometimes.

Ya know?

Glancing at the clock I realize I've still got two good hours before Charlie's home.

Sighing I stare at myself again.

I've got wavy mouse brown elbow length hair that's parted down the middle, milky colored skin, a heart shaped face, wide light brown eyes with thick black lashes, high cheek bones, to big for my own good peach colored lips, a thin frame, pointed boney hips, and I'm 5'2.

I'm wearing a black tank top and gray sweat pants.

I'm over trying, there's no reason to bother anymore…

Looking down I notice my shirt has rode up on my hips and I've got "X" like scars on my "love handles".

Tracing them with my fingers I shudder when I press down to hard on one of the cuts that's healing.

Pushing myself up off the floor I go to my white dresser and open my pantie drawer.

Moving my underwear out of the way I grab my clear lighter and stare at it. The memories all come back and I can feel the pain exploding through out my chest.

It's as if my stitches that were holding my heard together just came undone…

…or dissolved as if I knew the pain was always there.

Gasping for air I brush my thumb against the switch and watch the flame flicker.

This one flame I could use to kill myself.

As vulgar as that may sound I could, and I've tried. Trust me if it didn't hurt so much to have a minor burn my body would be in ashes.

Slowly-very slowly-I ease the hot flame to my arm. Feeling it grow warm as the hair on my arm disappears and an old pain comes back. Gasping I drop the lighter and I hold my sizzling arm as the smell of flesh comes to my nose.

You need to get out of the house I tell myself while I slip on my flip flops and trip my way down stairs.

Fumbling for the door knob I twist it open and slam the door. I need to get out of this house; I need to feel the cold.

My salvation is the sky crying, because now I don't have too.

The cold drops hit my arm and the stinging begins, but it's a good sting if that makes any since.

Walking to the side walk through the squishy ground I stop when I see a lone figure through the mist.

The male is smoking a cigarette and is leaning on the passenger door.

"You Bella?" his raspy voice asks.

Watching him closely I notice that he looks familiar…

He has curly raven shoulder length hair, caramel colored skin, a round face, narrow cork colored eyes, thin tan lips, a strong jaw covered in black stubble, a muscular body, and he looks to be 6'5.

He's wearing a red t-shirt, baggy black jeans, a black leather belt, and black Vans.

"Are you gonna stop staring and answer me?" pausing he takes a drag and blows the smoke in my face, "So are you Bella?"

Blinking the water out of my eyes from the smoke I look past him.

I don't know him, so he doesn't need my answer.

Plus, I don't believe in starting a friendship, with ANYONE.

"Is that a yes?" he asks annoyed.

Grunting he flicks the cigarette to the ground and stomps on it.

"Well whoever you are I'm the one that sold this truck to Charlie. I take it you're Charlie's daughter?"

Feeling irritated I give him a slight nod.

"Finally!" he yells and then chuckles.

Jumping I look back up at him.

"Jesus, it took forever to get an answer out of you," looking me over he tells me, "ya know you're pretty hot."

Blushing I wrap my arms around myself.

Looking at my arms he asks in a low voice, "You're a druggy?"

Stroking the markings from needles back in Phoenix he says, "Who would have thought the chief's daughter did drugs?"

It's as almost as he was talking to himself.

I know he saw the hurt look on my face because he adds, "I won't tell…do you want more?"

It's so hard to not give into the God damn temptation. It's like giving a starving person a meal, but telling them you can only look at it.

Closing my eyes I feel my body begin to shake.

Moving my head quickly I imply that I don't-when I really do.

Grabbing my face he strokes my cheek while I try to jerk away.

"Bella just call on me when you need too…Just ask your Dad about Jacob, he'll know who it is…"

And then he turns around and pauses, "I feel like I know you…"

Walking off through the mist, just like everyone else in my life has.

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A/N: I forgot to mention that the characters looks/personalities are going to be different.

**I hope you enjoyed!**

**Please don't forget to **_**review**_**!**

_**Or no chappie!**_

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	3. Heart Shaped Scars

**A/N: Yeahhh; I'm sorry for that authors note guys. They always seem to mess of the mojo of a fan fic, don't they? And I hope I didn't do that to mine. XD I forgot to mention, but theirs going to be about fourteen chapters to this fan fic, well roughly that many. Also, I'm grounded from the computer, so it may take me a while to update, but I'll find a way! (I promise okay guys?) So enjoy you guys, and remember to review! :D**

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Amazing!

It's another school day in my sucky life.

And somehow I'm still living, you would think that all the harm I've done to myself I'd be dead by now…

Walking through the empty halls of Forks high school, I realize that class will be over soon. I feel the loneliness overwhelm me, and I suddenly realize that I wish I had a friend. It's just so hard to go through life a lone.

Closing my eyes I keep walking, and notice that I'm finally visually in the dark.

Sighing I run the palms of my hands down my sides. Wincing I feel the cuts on my hip bones. Here's the thing when I was 15-years-old I starved myself. Basically I lost 30lbs. the unhealthy way. Now since that baby fat is gone I've got a 110lbs. body frame.

Most of the weight sat on my stomach and hips.

After loosing that weight my hips began to become pointy and wide-the bones of course-and I noticed that I looked even more awkward.

So mainly out of anger and pain I began carving a piece of a broken heart on each of my hip bones. Basically, I've got an outline-or scar-on each side, almost like a tattoo I guess.

So last night I was up until 1:00am thinking about the other day when that kid Jacob came by.

My addiction to ectasy has been held so deep inside me and it was released three days ago when he offered me drugs.

So, to attempt to kill my addiction I created the pain on my hips again.

You see ectasy makes you feel the pain as I joyful thing I guess. You get the giggles like crazy, even when you know you're not supposed to be happy.

Like just cutting your wrist feels like a sweet sensation when you're on it.

So, by cutting myself I wanted to achieve that…or make myself delusional.

Wincing I press down on my hips to ease the burning sensation.

Pulling my finger tips off of my cut up bones I rube them together.

Feeling a liquid on my finger tips I yank my eyes open. Staring at my red coated finger tips I groan.

Lifting up my purple t-shirt I see my gray skinny jeans have two red blots on the waste band.

Groaning I drop my t-shirt, and turn the corner of the hall way sharply.

Hitting an ice cold surface I throw my hands forward to grasp something so that I don't fall.

Closing my eyes I wait for some type of impact.

Hearing a hissing sound I pull my eyes open and stare up at dark butter scotch eyes.

What I hit wasn't a wall, it was a guy.

Well, okay more like a Greek God.

This guy has messy bronze hair, deathly white skin, a narrow face, narrow butter scotch eyes with deep purple rings underneath his eyes, a sharp nose, a strong jaw, broad shoulders, a muscular body but it's somehow boyish, and he looks to be 6'1.

Letting go of his plaid button up shirt, I notice he has on black skinny jeans, and dirty black Converses.

Quickly getting out of his way I move around him and quickly get to the end of the hall way.

Looking at my hands I see smeared blood on my finger tips.

Arriving at the closed doors I reach out to push it open.

Its crazy how these doors are the only things keeping me from getting to my personal safety.

Pushing down on the medal, the door creaks open when I hear a musical masculine voice say, "You're bleeding."

Turning around I come face to face with the guy that I literally ran into.

"You left blood on my shirt," the way he says blood it's like his voice became strained.

My eyes widen when he grabs my hand. A spark shoots through my hand when our skin touches.

Glaring his nostrils flare and I watch his eyes literally change to deep black pools.

Terror runs through my body as I try to jerk away.

"Stop moving," he growls.

Gasping I watch him pull my hands up to his face.

His eyes roll back and his body shudders.

"Edward!" a soft voice yells at the end of the hall way.

The girl has midnight blue cropped hair with emo bangs, snow white skin, a narrow face, almond shaped butterscotch eyes with thick black lashes, a sharp nose, wide light pink lips, a small slender body, and she looks to be 4'8.

She's almost like a pixie…

She's wearing a long sleeve white t-shirt, a violet dress that sits over it, white panty hose, and black flats. She has on eyeliner, mascara, lip gloss, and violet button ear rings.

Can you pass out by someone squeezing your hands so tightly?

…well I think I just did.

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CLIFFIE! :)

**A/N: So that's chapter three! I hope it makes up for that sucky authors note. And I hope it was good, and I'll try working on making these things freakin longer! Sorry about any bad grammar, but I'm trying okay? So what do we need to do guys? **

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	4. Fighting Addiction

**A/N: GUYS! I can't apologize enough; I honestly have no idea where I've been. All I can say this has just been a hard time. No excuses, just writers block and depression. So partying has been my main focus, but I still hope that I've got some fans out there! Dx But this is going to sound so selfish, but I still expect reviews for me to update. So please any one out there that's reading R E V I E W ! And I promise that you'll get an update, because I've got the chapters typed up. But I just will have to find a computer when the reviews are in. So please enjoy, and don't forget to review! :)**

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I'm not sure where I am…

Or how I got here…

All I remember is that everything just went so cold, and black. I felt like I was floating away from anything and everything that I ever had. All that was important to me just slipped away as I fell into my depression.

But once I woke up I was lying on cold muddy ground.

All I know is that I'm lying somewhere in the forest-hopefully-beside my house.

'How did I get here?' I think over and over again.

My memory can only bring me to when that God…was his name Edward?...that's what the pixie was screaming. He grabbed me, and he held on so tight.

I had no idea of what to do, or how to react.

It was terrifying actually.

Bringing my sore arm up to block the light shining down into the forest I notice that my wrist is swollen.

"Shit," I curse under my breath.

Bracing myself for the pain to come I nudge myself up into the sitting position. Gasping in pain I also notice that my jeans are sealed to my dried cuts like a bandage.

"That's gonna hurt so much when I take them off," I sigh to myself.

Pushing myself to a wobbly stand I limp through the woods on where ever this path may lead me.

'I could really go for a cigarette right now,' I think to myself.

Seeing the clearing of the trees I force myself to wobble a little faster, I must really want that shower, or something. I'm not sure what it is, but something is driving me to just keep moving. I mean, I've got nothing to live for right?

Glancing around I step out of the forest and head towards the road.

Hobbling down the dirt path I see my house and sigh in relief that Charlie's not home yet.

Looking down at the ground I look for any cigarettes that could possibly have anything left in them.

I end up finding three and hurry up inside.

"I'll smoke one now, then after I take my shower I'll smoke the other two," I grumble.

Crawling up the stairs I reach the top and place my cheek against the cold wooden floor, "Almost there…," I say out of breath.

Reaching my bedroom door I crawl inside and kick the door shut.

Dragging myself with my bruised arms I reach my dresser and open up my pantie drawer. Reaching inside I pull out my lighter and shake the damn thing.

'Good still enough lighter fluid,' I think to myself.

Pulling out the longest cigarette I have I burn the end to attempt to kill any of the germs and then pop it in my mouth.

Lighting the mother fucker I inhale the Newport into my lungs and shutter. Coughing like an addict my body shakes while smoke blows out of my nostrils.

Taking another hit I puff and blow while burning the ends of the other two cigarettes to try and sanitize them as much as I can.

Feeling the stress relieve me I slump against my bed and place my lighter and cigarettes on top of my pillow.

Flicking the cigarette over top of my trash can I intake the last puff and then put it out.

Pulling myself up by using my bed, I undress and throw my dirty clothes in my hamper.

"Jesus Christ!" I scream when the jeans tear the cuts on my skin open.

Watching the blood pool to my hips I give up and light the shortest cigarette.

Walking out of my room while smoking I head to the bathroom and look at myself.

I look like shit.

Purple bags under my eyes, a busted lip, a bruised shoulder from the fall, and cuts from my razor everywhere.

"What am I going to do?" I whisper aloud, "Charlie is sure to notice."

And then I realize…

…I've been speaking all day…

…yes to myself…

_But I talked_.

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A/N: Uhg! I hope I haven't lost my touch. :( But guys this was just the after effect of what Bella remembers, in the next chapter you'll find out what really happened; and it will be from Edwards P.O.V.! :D But I hope you all enjoyed what I could give you. Don't forger to…

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